Explanation (or How Bilbo Baggins Was Lost for Words)
by johnsarmylady
Summary: There are times when - despite being called 'common tongue' - the language with which the Dwarves of the company of Thorin Oakenshield communicate with their Hobbit (and vice versa) is anything but common...as Bilbo Baggins found to his dismay when he unwittingly insulted the King in Exile...


**This started, as my one-shots often do, with a comment or two read either on a forum or in an e-mail discussion. In this case, my good friend and favourite poetess used a word (and get your minds out of the gutter - it was a perfectly acceptable and CLEAN word!), and another of my good friend commented on what a good word it was. I have to say I totally agree with her, to the point that I think it's due a grand revival.  
Be that as it may, when I woke up for no good reason at 2.30am, the word was still going round my head - attached to a very silly tale of thirteen Dwarves and a Hobbit...  
I dedicate this little bit of silliness to my very goods friends, with thanks for your inspiration.  
**

 **XOXOXO**

 _ **The eagles have rescued them from Azog's orcs, and the company have made their way down from the eyot to the surrounding plains and forest. In his usual infuriating way, Gandalf has suddenly decided that he needs to attend to some 'business' and has hurried on ahead of his companions...**_

The Carrock was far behind them as the company of Thorin Oakenshield stopped for a brief rest and a meagre lunch of hard biscuits and some berries that Bilbo had scavenged as they walked. Most of their supplies had been lost back in the goblin caves, and not one of the dwarves was particularly happy about eating what they saw essentially as bird food.

With a shrug Bilbo took his share of the berries (and the shares of a few of the others who _really_ couldn't bring themselves to eat them) and settled himself beside a small stream. As he ate he dipped a piece of cloth torn from his shirt into the cool water, and rolling up his trouser leg proceeded to dab delicately at a large graze across his knee.

"When did that happen?" Kili dropped down on a rock opposite him and nodded pointedly at his injury.

Kili's comment attracted the attention of several of the others, but Bilbo was blissfully unaware as he continued to clean grit and blood from his skin.

"Oh..um..when I fell in the Goblin caves," he said, only half paying attention.

"And you're only cleaning it now?" Dori leaned over and looked at it with a frown before Oin nudged him out of the way.

"Let me see that." The healer said. "You should have told us about this sooner."

His tone brought Bilbo's head up, and he found himself staring across into bright blue eyes.

"Master Burglar, you really should take better care of yourself." Thorin said with quiet authority, yet not without a little... was that fondness? Bilbo blinked.

"Yes, well..." the hobbit stammered. "I probably would have done something before now but what with being chased, and all that kerfuffle with Azog..."

"Ker...what?" Kili frowned, his head on one side as if looking at an interesting new form of weaponry.

"I beg your pardon?" Thorin was equally perplexed.

"Kerfuffle." Bilbo repeated, only his mind was more on the salve that Oin was applying to his torn flesh and he didn't see the effect his words were having on his companions.

"You'll forgive us, laddie, if we ask you to explain yourself." Balin said mildly. "Was that some form of elvish?"

Suddenly Bilbo realised that the entire company was standing around him, looking at him in varying degrees of puzzlement. Had he not been so taken aback at their lack of comprehension he would have laughed outright at the twin expressions of confusion on the faces of the two youngest Durins.

"Elvish? Oh no, no, not at all. I wouldn't..." Bilbo could well remember the antagonism radiating from Thorin when they were led into Rivendell. "I mean, it's...well...it's just something we say in the Shire."

"But what does it mean?" Fili asked, and several other voices around him were raised in agreement – they all wanted to know.

"Well...it means..." and at this point Bilbo stopped dead. He frowned, and scratched his head, noting vaguely that his hair really needed cutting, and if he couldn't find a comb or brush soon he'd never get the knots out of it. "It means...fuss."

"Fuss?" Thorin's brows drew together.

"Well...yes."

"You think fighting the pale orc for the honour of my family a _fuss_?"

Bilbo gulped audibly.

"Um...not at all. I mean fuss as in...um..."

"Yes?" If anyone had looked closely at Dwalin's face as he spoke they would have noticed that under his frowning exterior he was silently enjoying the halfling's discomfort.

"Well..as in...a bit of a to-do..."

Blank faces looked, if anything, blanker.

"A bit of a 'to-do'?" The exiled king's voice was soft, and all the deadlier for being so.

"I...I...sorry, I mean...well..." The hobbit was quaking by this point, all his usual skill with words, as evidenced by his victory in the game of riddles, had long since deserted him. He looked pleadingly around at the other dwarves, and his mouth opened and closed several times but no sound emerged. He grew first quite red in the face, then pale as Thorin took a step towards him.

"Explain yourself Master Burglar! Do you think us stupid that you insult us with your fancy words?"

No, that definitely couldn't have been fondness that Bilbo had seen in their leader's eyes, for now they were like ice chips boring down into him, and he felt the prick and stab of each one. Even Oin backed away from him, the remains of his medicinal supplies being hastily put back into a pouch under his coat.

Never had Bilbo wished more fervently for the return of Gandalf, for he was bound to be able to explain. He knew the Shire's sayings as well as Bilbo or any other hobbit, and it was very likely that he would make a more coherent job of explaining, but wishing never made it so, and the company burglar was left to stare in stupefaction at the dwarves surrounding him.

In the end it was Balin that came to his rescue. Good, reliable Balin son of Fundin, who realised that despite the time they had spent together their hobbit was still a little in awe of his ferocious and warlike companions.

"Now laddie," he said calmly, putting a hand on Thorin's arm to stay his approach and looking down at Bilbo with a kindly expression. "Just take your time, and tell us exactly what this word, kerfuffle, means to Shire folk."

Bilbo gazed around, noting that Thorin, Bifur and Dwalin still looked like they wanted to tear him limb from limb and eat him for supper, while Ori just looked scared (though whether that was on Bilbo's behalf or his own the hobbit couldn't tell) and his brothers, along with Bombur and Bofur seemed happy to just wait for an explanation. Fili and Kili simply looked puzzled – and a little worried.

"Well...ahem..it's just..." With a sigh the smaller creature shrugged. "Whenever there's any kind of upset in the Shire, family feuds that erupt into a lot of noise and shouting of insults, or even something as simple as a pig getting loose in the market, the resulting... _thing_...is referred to as a kerfuffle. Whether it's a lot of hobbits taking sides with their family or friends, or equally a number of hobbits trying to stop the destruction of stalls and wares, it's noise, and confusion, and everything happening at once..." His voice trailed off as Bofur slapped him heartily on the shoulder.

"Well why didn't you just say so?" He laughed as Bilbo picked himself up from the floor.

"Yeah," Kili added with a sly grin at his brother. "If you'd just told us plainly, you could have saved yourself this whole kerfuffle..."


End file.
